


De metus natura

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Characters - Unusual relationship(s), Other - Freeform, Plot - Can't stop reading, Plot - Dangerous topic w/satisfying end, Plot - Fast moving, Plot - Good pacing, Subjects - Explores obscure facts, Subjects - Legends/Myth/History, War of the Ring, Writing - Well-handled PoV(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3778861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ring can be very persuasive indeed.  Aragorn / Ring (POV)<br/>Dark.  -- by Libitina</p>
            </blockquote>





	De metus natura

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

To speak of a thing is to invoke its power, but to truly name a thing is to have power over it.

Let me speak of that which weakens you.

Fear makes you cringe from me: fear of your destiny. You are a coward.

You hide behind your strength. You hide behind your sword. But when the time comes to fulfill your destiny, you will need far more than skills of war. You will need to rule and command men.

But they hate you. “Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.” What use has Arda for a King?

Well you know the use. You see the hurts of the land. You see the hurts of the people. And you would heal these hurts. You would, were you not afraid.

Coward.

Do you even know what frightens you? Do you know why you fear me?

I am powerful, yes. But you are strong. You might be stronger than I. And you have never hesitated before to test your strength against your foes. You are the secret savior of Middle Earth. You have gone by stealth to Gondor and fought beside them -- against me. And you drove my forces back. You won. You might yet win. Do you not even wish to try?

Coward.

You are afraid of me. You are afraid to touch me. Touch me. I won’t burn.

I promise. Believe me. Promises are precious.

I understand.

Listen to me, only listen, for there is no need to make promises that neither one of us will keep. I will be content to have you listen. I will be content to know that my words make you curious. Hungry. That is enough. You do not have to act. Relax. I will not force you. I promise.

I will not need to.

Do you know that I listen to you? I follow your eyes: they catch me. I notice your thoughts: they matter to me. I pay attention to your movements: they set me aflame.

Your feet caress the ground, permitting only faint whispers, as you shift your balance. Fleet-footed and deadly. Strong and cunning. Unable to be seen. Hidden in the forest. Hunting. Tracking. Hiding.

Are you not tired of hiding? Are you not ready to claim your destiny? Are you not ready to claim me? No, you are not. You fear.

You need.

You are afraid to be raised too high, afraid to be visible. If you take hold of me, I won’t let you fall. I won’t let you be hurt. I will keep you safe. I promise.

If you take hold of me, we would heal the world. I would give you strength beyond the physical. I would obey you.

You need me.

I am your destiny, and yet you hide from me. I am your inheritance. I am the path you will inevitably follow. Why fight it? I will protect you from your fear.

Step closer, Aragorn. Come to me.

I will not make you look at me. I know that the tiny glimpses of my shine hasten your breath, drawing you in too quickly. You fight it. Do not fear me. I will not rush you. Let me seduce you slowly, instead. Let me lure you in, push you away, and make you ache to hear my whispered melody once more.

Join me. Let me hear you. Let your husky voice be heard. Murmur to me your need. Sing of what you can never have. I will listen.

Resist me. Fight me. Turn away.

Breathe, and inhale your own scent: the scent of leather, metal, and of musk. As your sword’s odor is a part of you, you know my scent as well. I have a more subtle and enticing flavor than any simple band of gold. Release my scent with your warmth. I crave your warmth.

Warm me. Burn me. I can withstand it.

Hold me. Wrap your hand around me. Slide your finger through me. Feel me. I will support you. I will welcome you.

Feel me. Won’t you dare one little touch?

After all, what should you fear?

Fear that you will like it. Fear that you will control me. Fear that you will win. Because that is how I will take you.

Wrap me around your finger; I will wrap you around mine.

Fool.


End file.
